Tag: philosophy

You are a flowering abyss;
everyday you grow more beautiful
and more empty.
Like a storm in its eye,
sublime in its power
becomes so suddenly
silent, in one place,
as the billowing winds
and capsizing waves
rage around it.

…

You are so much more
than I can say,
than I can see.
To me you are just a collection:
of what is reflected and triggered in my memories.

“The mind and the body are so intimately connected that ultimately we cannot tell the difference between them. Ultimately, indeed, they tell the same stories about us. But the body is the more visible aspect of the being and so may speak for itself. When we align the body we also align the mind. The body is the hologram of the being, as Alexander Lowen has said. ‘The body does not lie.’”
― Alcmaeon, Concerning Nature, 6th century B.C.

I am a girl, goddammit.
I am sweet and anxious,
frivolous, giggling,
dancing, serene and vivacious.
I can gossip with the best of them,
and wear the very highest,
but do not care what I look like,
I’m completely oblivious,
and selfless.
All I care for is you.
Don’t question any of this.
I know.
I have a women’s intuition,
and empathy abound.
Tell me all your problems.
I will listen.
I’m a girl, goddammit.

This isn’t actually what I think women are or should be… expressing my thoughts on the craziness of some of the expectations of what they should be.

“But yet, sometimes when I have done wrong, it has been because I have feelings that you would be the better for if you had them. If you were in fault ever – if you had done anything very wrong, I should be sorry for the pain it brought you – I should not want punishment to be heaped on you. But you have always enjoyed punishing me – you have always been hard and cruel to me.”
– George Eliot, Mill on the Floss

“How could you think the rain would fall knowingly? It does what it does. It’s a natural process. There’s no spite involved. Stop criticising.”

“You say this of me, but you don’t understand. I want to know how things happen, that’s all. But I know I’ve picked up these critical patterns. It seems to be taught as the way to be strong. I must be judging, always thinking of what’s wrong and right, what should and shouldn’t be. But I wasn’t naturally like this, whatever that means… It came about as an attempt to merge into my surroundings.”

“This self-absorption… we were talking about the rain. Why do you think it would want to harm us? How could you think so badly of it?”

“How could I know what’s in the mind of the rain? It was just a suggestion, or a thought.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I suppose a suggestion could be about you, trying to make you think differently perhaps, while a thought could simply be me expressing my mind with no motive at all of it influencing you. But what I said wasn’t a judgement on the rain.”

“Okay. I see. I just feel one’s interpretations of others’ actions could make all the difference. You know, the world is in ruins. Do you think harm would come about nearly as often if we thought each other’s motives benevolent, or at least as not cruel?”

“I want to be like the rain, if it doesn’t fall knowingly. These endless reactions, all with some kind of choice and of blame, they’re exhausting. I don’t want to think.”